Night Extra

“Okay, thanks.” They looked at each other for a few seconds in silence. She was very pale and her short yellow hair shadowed her eyes. The shiny brown buttons on her skirt glinted as she shifted her weight.

“I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

“I think I will.”

“I’d better go.”

“So long, Connie. And thanks again.”

But she stood watching him and made no move to leave. Finally she sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the tips of her brown pumps. “I’m running out of small talk,” she said. “I thought — don’t you want me to stay?”

“Just like that?” he said.

“Sure — just like that.” She spoke almost flippantly, but a tide of color was moving up in her pale cheeks.

“You know, this sort of thing was always happening to my platoon sergeant,” Terrell said. He rose on one elbow and picked up his drink. “Every time he got leave he’d check into a hotel and be ready for the sack when there was this knock. It was a girl, see? She’d noticed him in the lobby. Well, what could he do. She wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. The next morning she’d tell him she had never known what love was before. This happened to him every time he promoted a three-day pass.”

“Please shut up,” she said.

“But nobody ever believed him. Now I suppose no one will ever believe me.”

She started to rise but he caught her arm. “All right, it’s not funny,” he said. “Why do you want to stay? A tender breast for the wounded warrior? Something like that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t figure it out.” She looked at him and the light from the bedlamp glinted on the tears in her eyes. “You made me feel cheap and useless, that’s all. I wanted to do something for you, something I could do—” She shook her head quickly. “It doesn’t make sense. I’m sorry.”

“It was a very decent impulse.” He was oddly touched and grateful, and that made him feel awkward. “Would you like a cigarette? Something to drink?”

She shook her head again, “No, I’ve got to go.”

“At the risk of sounding ridiculously statistical, this is the first time anything like this ever happened to me.”

“That’s probably your fault,” she said. “You’ve kept people away with gags and — I don’t know — bitterness. I feel it, anyway.”

He felt unaccountably responsible for her sadness. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I apologize for the gags. You’ve made a handsome gesture.” Terrell put his drink down and took one of her hands. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than he had already, but he couldn’t find the words to express his feelings. “Couldn’t we forget the bitterness?” he said.

“Can you do that?”

He touched her cheek and then the smoothness of her throat. When she turned and smiled uncertainly at him, Terrell felt very lucky and just a bit humble. “We’ll try,” he said...

The ringing phone woke him much later. He got up on his elbow and switched on the bedside lamp. The room was dark but lines of soft, gray dawn framed the drawn blinds. He lifted the phone and the operator said, “Mr. Terrell?”

“That’s right.”

“One moment. Beach City is calling.”

Terrell swung his legs over the side of the bed and lit a cigarette. Then he looked over his shoulder and saw that she was watching him with a sleepy little smile. “Sorry,” he said.

“And I was having such an elegant dream.”

“Close your eyes and pick up where you left off. It’s still early.”

“I’m all right.”

“All right, eh? That’s putting it coolly.”

“I’m fine then. Wonderful.” She snuggled into the pillow, her face small and pale in the frame of her tousled blond hair. Terrell touched her cheek gently with the back of his hand. “You look very nice.”

“I feel very nice.”

The receiver clicked in Terrell’s ear, and a voice he knew said, “Sam? Sam Terrell? This is Tim Moran, Beach City Homicide. Sorry about the time.”

“Never mind. What’s up?”

“That little cop who shot himself over here, you remember? Coglan? Well, I don’t think he did. I don’t want to say more now, but if you come over here I’ll give you the story.”

“There’s no traffic. I can make it in two hours.”

“Fine. I called you because I just got a brush-off from your police department. They want that suicide tag to stick.”

“Who’d you talk to?”

“A cop named Stanko. He’s captain of detectives in Coglan’s district.”

“That figures. I’ll see you in two hours, Tim. And thanks.”

Terrell put the receiver down and said, “I’ve got to shave and get rolling. You try to get back to sleep.”

“You must go?”

“Yes, it’s important.”

She sat up smiling and pressed her cheek against his arm. “I wanted to help you,” she said. “And it was the other way around.”

“It was much more than that,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it when I get back. In loving detail.”

Terrell showered and shaved in under three minutes, but spent that much time repairing nicks on his chin. When he left the bathroom he smelled coffee and heard the click of high heels in the kitchen. He shook his head and began dressing. But he couldn’t help smiling. The experience with her had left him bemused; he felt very happy, and at the same time he felt like a damn fool!